


What's in a name

by Dragonmad



Series: The Hogwarts Chronicles [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7262947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonmad/pseuds/Dragonmad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you think it's a ploy?" Comes the sudden question. The boy has somehow stashed his things in the compartment without him noticing. He's sitting opposite now, his feet swinging to thump against the bench in time with the trains movements. </p><p>Olivier shakes himself into being more present. "Do I think what's a ploy?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's in a name

**Author's Note:**

> Continuing dabbling in this crossover verse. There'll probably be a few one-shots happening (maybe)...
> 
> -

Olivier stares out at the countryside, watching the rolling green fields turn to larger grey slopes, the air getting crisper and colder. The small window is open and through it the peculiar thick smell of the coal fired engine rushes through. 

His mind runs in circles as the train jostles gently back and forth and Olivier struggles to dismiss the creeping anxious feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. His life has been a carefully plotted sequence of events for 11 years, and will continue to be so for at least another five. He knows what Hogwarts is. He knows what awaits at the start of year feast, the subjects he's expected to take, the extra curricular activities he needs. He even knows the names of his future housemates. All in all, he may be far away from the strangling confines of the Most Ancient and Noble House of de la Fére, but even here miles away from that grand and intimidating house, he is a prisoner of his own life. 

"Hi!" Chirps a bright cheery voice. 

Olivier blinks from his rumination and turns to look at the door. A messy set of hair is set atop a beaming face and the other boy pushes the door open wider. "Mind if I sit? Everywhere else is full." 

Frowning he muses that having the carriage to himself for the entire trip was rather too good to be true. He nods reluctantly. 

"Great!" And if possible the smile grows, blinding in its intensity.

Olivier wonders enviously what it must be like to be that free with your emotions. To not have to worry that a slip in expression might give others a chance to use it against you. 

"Do you think it's a ploy?" Comes the sudden question. The boy has somehow stashed his things in the compartment without him noticing. He's sitting opposite now, his feet swinging to thump against the bench in time with the trains movements. 

Olivier shakes himself into being more present. "Do I think what's a ploy?" 

The boy flashes him another charming smile, but now that he's looking he can see the cunning hidden carefully in the other boy's eyes. He knows suddenly that it wouldn't do to underestimate this strange person sitting opposite him. 

"A ploy," the other boy repeats. "Whopping great train like this one, hundreds of students, and only a set number of cars. It's almost like they're trying to force us to socialise." The boys face twists comically into an expression of horror. 

Despite himself, Olivier can feel his mouth curling in amusement. "Highly suspicious." 

The boy smiles at him, "René d'Herblay,” he says, holding out a hand. “But I'm thinking of changing it." 

Olivier blinks, taking the hand automatically. "Changing it?"

"Mm, I'm not that fond of my first name. I much prefer my middle name." 

Olivier can feel himself smiling. "I feel much the same way." 

"So, you haven't said..." 

"Oh! Sorry, Olivier de la Fére." 

He waits for the other boy to withdraw; to make a face or sneer. He doesn't. 

"And what's your actual name then?" 

His actual name, he muses. He turns it over in his, feeling the weight of it settle in his head before testing it cautiously on his tongue. "Athos. My name's Athos." 

The other boy takes his hand again and shakes it. "A pleasure to meet you Athos," he beams, "I'm Aramis." 

And just like that, the boy previously known as Olivier feels just that little bit more hopeful for the future.


End file.
